


Second Chance

by LunaCangiante



Category: Call of Duty
Genre: F/M, Game timeline but will extend beyond, Odd idea that popped up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaCangiante/pseuds/LunaCangiante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lead engineer for Atlas, Samantha 'Skitter' Walker, was only supposed to design a new limb for newest recruit, Jack Mitchell. But as they keep running into each other more and more (mostly to iron out the newest design), she finds she is constantly distracted by a pair of blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Samantha 'Skitters' Walker was not like the typical 'girl power' that embodied Atlas. When asked why, she responded with a smirk and a response that she was a 'lover not a fighter' before she was back to her paperwork. That was the truth of it, her background was not a harsh one - she came from very supportive parents that were thrilled when she told them she was going into the engineering field. She held her temper in check for the most part, except when it came to deadlines. She knew how to shoot a gun, but her aim was only so-so, enough to wound and kill only if she was lucky. 

No, no - she was better off in the lab where she belonged. Listening to some researcher telling her what she needed and how she needed to do it. She liked the field they had assigned her to - BioMedical Macrotechnology and General Tech - basically robotic parts for soldiers who lost limbs as well as all the nifty gadgets seeing as most tech was far beyond simple technology, but it paid well. Plus it was an honorable job to pay back those who lost a part of themselves in wars (literally). It gave them a second chance, rather than discarding able bodied men like a shoe with a hole in it. She enjoyed the whole process, and Irons was not a difficult man to work for. Get your job done, and do it right - a simple enough concept for any job. She ranked high in her college, and as soon as she turned in her resume, Irons was impressed enough to give her a shot and made certain that the men did not see her as a woman, but rather a coworker. They seemed to respect what he had to say, as they never gave her much trouble. 

"Hey Skitters," greeted Brad Mullins. Her immediate superior, he was more than glad to take her under his wing. He didn't mind the endless barrage of questions, making certain to remind her that books never applied to the real world. 'The only thing them textbooks will teach you is economics. What not to buy, how long you can go without food, what bills don't need to be paid immediately.' He was also one who gave her, her nickname Skitters. 'For someone with a name like Walker, you never walk. You skitter around the damn place! You know what, I'm going to call you just that Samantha Skitters.' It stuck, for years. She was almost insulted at first, until she began to notice with the way he treated her, it was an endearing name instead. 

She gave him a small wave, looking over her email. 

"You get Irons message yet?" He asked.

"No, why we reworking one of the limbs?"

"Oh yeah," laughed Mullins. "You should see the demand on this thing, he wants the works."

She glanced through the email and whistled. Generally, the newer limbs were good enough for basic function, but not worth testing in armed combat. Most of the ex-soldiers helped with training, research, psychology, etc. but not combat. "When's the deadline?"

"Not really sure, just says ASAP. Guess this kid was a friend of Irons' boy." 

Sam twisted her face at the mention of Will. She didn't know him very well, they'd met in passing a time or two - but she couldn't imagine what Jonathon had been going through when the news spread of his son's death. The blank look on his face as he tried to process the information, then leaving without so much as a word. The previous weekend had been Will's funeral, just before he left - Jonathon had mentioned something about a kid, but soft enough she couldn't hear the whole thing. Sam had figured maybe he was a grandfather, his son was in his mid-twenties it wouldn't have been impossible. 

"Good God," she shook her head as she read through the build sheet a little more extensively. A left arm, the kid - Jack Mitchell- needed a left arm capable of putting a rifle back in it. "Why would someone want to go back after losing a limb. Isn't that God's way of saying 'I don't want to kill you but you need a career change?'"

Mullins chuckled at the statement - she had such a way with words. "Don't know, don't care. We've got a job to do, let's call the others in and try to get a concept up soon. Oh and Skitters, if we get this done before deadline, I think it's time."

"Time?"

"To join the Executive Circle."

"Wait, what?"

"It's about time to put you up for promotion. We can start cycling some of the new kids into the system, but I need to get you to move upward."

"Holy crap!" She felt like bursting. What would her family think? They would jump for joy at the news, hell she was about to start jumping herself. 

"If we get it done by deadline, I need you to ride those engineers for all they're worth. This is going to be a tough one." She nodded, she'd get it done. Even if it killed her. 

It was a project that took three months to solidify. Sam tried her best to be patient with the design but after filling out her fifth FMEA sheet in a week, she wanted nothing more than to throw her prototype through the window. Something was wrong with the MagGlove, bending the fingers back into the arm in an unnatural curve. She knew what her problem was, more frustrated that she missed the minute detail, but after her fifth attempt to fix it, it broke right through the resistance and bent again.

"Can I offer some advice?"

"A less powerful magnet?"

"No, it still needs to support a full grown man's weight. I met the kid the other day, he's not tiny, I mean he's not huge but he's certainly in shape." 

"Did you? How is he?"

"Not one of those typical jar heads that think they're God's gift to the planet. Soft spoken, well mannered, didn't have a lot of say. He did shake my hand with his remaining one and thanked me for the work we're putting into its counterpart."

"Aw."

"Oh yeah, you're going to love him. He's so dreamy."

She snorted at that last part. It was no secret she didn't date often. When her mother asked her when she was going to finally get married, she always answered she was already married to her job and she was just fine with the way things were between them. 'Don't worry. It keeps me satisfied.' It wasn't that she never dated, she just had a hard time maintaining a relationship when she worked all the time or was sent all over the world to work on specific projects. 

"Alright, so what's the big secret to get the mags to work?"

"Do you know why we work in teams?"

"Because we get things done faster?"

"Yeah, how?"

"Uhm, everyone has a specific job?"

"Part of it, but four heads are better than one. Which is going to lead me to the next point, which metal is not magnetic?"

"Quite a few." 

"Here take this." He tossed her a simple magnet from the fridge in the break room. "Now stick it to your soda can." 

She glanced between the can and the magnet before she stuck it on the side as instructed. Almost immediately she smacked her palm to her head. Aluminum. Aluminum was lightweight, flexible, and not magnetic. "Do you think it'd be strong enough?"

"That's why we test prototypes." 

Another month had passed, they finally had an arm made. After nearly a thousand scrapped attempts, and four frantic emails trying to figure out what the hold up was. They finally had a functioning arm. The only test now was to make sure Jack Mitchell could actually use it and that the neural sensors would process correctly. That morning, only Sam had been assigned to run diagnostics on the limb while Mullins oversaw the newest T-740 concepts.

She was halfway through getting all the monitors booted up and ready for scanning when she heard the familiar voice of her boss. "We here at Atlas only accept the best, because that's what we aim to be. We don't just throw away our resources, we use them to their fullest extent. Good morning Ms. Walker." She looked from her screens and smiled at her boss and his guest. Jack Mitchell, a good head taller than Irons and just as Mullins has said it, he was not huge just built like a soldier was supposed to be. It was obvious he kept at it, with the promise of returning to his profession -it'd do a soldier no good to be out of shape. His dark hair only made his blue eyes stand out more as he stared at the prosthetic, despite how tired they looked. No doubt after losing a limb someone was giving him something to dull the pain. 

"Good morning Mr. Irons," she said cheerfully. She drove Mullins bonkers with her morning cheerfulness. He called her unnatural and tried to wave her away until he had put down a pot of coffee. 

"This is the newest member of our team, Jack Mitchell. Mitchell this is Samantha Walker -one of our brightest." 

"Nice to meet you," he took her hand in his right one. 

"Pleasure is all mine." 

"I'll let you get to your job. When you're all finished here, go find Gideon, he'll take Mitchell to give that thing a thorough test." 

"Could you advise him to take it easy this time," she smirked. "While I do admire how rigorous he is with his testing, it does me no good to have to start from scratch every time. Plus it's beginning to get expensive." 

"I'll make sure to run it by him." He left with a raise of his hand. 

"Alright, I won't keep you waiting," she hit a button on her console, causing the diagnostics computer to kick on. A seat had folded down waiting expectantly for Mitchell to sit. "Have a seat and we'll see about getting this thing attached. Can you unwrap your bandages?"

He nodded as he sat down, carefully unraveling until he was down to a stump. He frowned at the sight of his injury, Sam noticed this immediately. "Hey cheer up, that's what we're here for." 

He smirked a little at that, "sorry, just don't think I'll ever get used to not seeing it there."

"I can imagine. But not to worry, I'll have you fitted and kitted in no time, you'll barely notice it's gone," she smiled kindly. "Why don't you set your arm right here, and we'll run some tests."

He did as instructed, watching her plug a cord into, what would soon be, his new left hand. "This is going to give me information on power distribution. Normally, for most of our limbs we're knock you out and do surgery to attach the neurons, unfortunately that's not the case today. We need you awake to see what kind of shock this can stand up to. So this is going to hurt a little bit." He nodded again, unfazed by the information, though Sam could only guess that after losing a limb, everything else seemed easy by comparison. "Okay, so what I need you to do is slide your arm through here, -there you go. You'll notice some needles on the side, they are going to serve as neurons for now until we can set you up with something a little more permanent, this is just another prototype to make sure all the bits and pieces are working. Then we'll knock you out and give you a more permanent solution." 

"How long will that take?"

"Assuming this goes well? About a week or so, which will be fine. By time you finish your paperwork with Irons your arm will be waiting for you." She hit another button and Mitchell grunted with a slight startle at the suddenness of the needles clamping into his arm. "Sorry. You still holding up alright?"

"I'm fine." 

"Good, okay, let's see if we can move it," she checked the screen. "So it looks like we've got a good electronic flow-." 

"It's a little intense," he cut her off. Sam glanced at him, every now and again he'd flinch while the rest of his arm that was still flesh became tense. 

"Okay I'll turn it down a little bit," a few adjustments and he relaxed again. "How's that?"

"Better," he conceded. 

"Great, now I want you to try to your fingers one at a time, try to touch your palm. Just like you would if your arm was still there so don't think too hard about it." 

It took a second, like he wanted to ask something but didn't. Finally the index finger curled towards the palm, followed by his middle, then the ring, and finally the last. If it were at all possible, Sam would have sworn his eyes had brightened at the sight of his functioning new limb. 

He had beautiful eyes. 

"How's that feel?"

"Good."

"Anymore effort than usual?"

"No, it feels really good." 

"Okay that's excellent," she wrote down the notes on her pad before looking up again. "Okay, we'll move it a little more. Can you try to flip your hand? Let's see if the wrist is moving correctly."

He did as she asked. The dark cloud over him while was unwrapping his bandages had seemed to blow away quickly. He let out a breath and the smirk returned to his face, more genuine this time. Sam couldn't help but return his good mood, they had finally done it. After months of concepts that had gone horribly awry, her invention came to life, the executive position was going to open up soon. Her promotion!

"What'd I tell you, an arm in no time."

"That's incredible," he kept moving it for some time. 

"I'm glad you like it so much, everything is still comfortable?" 

"So far so good." 

"Great, okay we'll go find Gideon and give that thing a real test run. I'm going to follow the two of you, but I'll keep my distance. If you don't mind I'm going to unplug this -it'll shock a little - then replace it with this so I can get a good look at it while it's functioning." 

They finished up in the lab, she led the way around the facility. "So what I want to see, is how much damage it can take. We're going to try to break it, and I'm not going to lie it's going to go haywire. It might knock you on your ass for the rest of the day, so let's hope we're not successful." 

"I thought you said not to let Gideon break it."

"No, I want it to break to see how much it can take. If it's easily broken, we'll need to see if we can re-enforce it to make it battle worthy. I just don't want the 'Gideon Special' where he breaks it, rips it off, and possibly blows it up beyond repair." 

Mitchell furrowed his brow, clearly not sure how to handle this bit of information. Sam patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, "he's not a bad guy. Just extensive, do what you do best and we'll go from there." 

"Oi, Skitters, there you are," they were waved over by a blonde man with his arms folded expectantly over his chest. He sized Mitchell up and down a few times and sighed with a shake of his head. "This the new guy?"

"He's right there, why don't you ask him yourself."

"Fuckin' hell," he muttered. "You in a mood today?"

"No I'm not in a mood! Just use your damn manners." He rolled his eyes at her as she chuckled at him. She loved Gideon to death - especially when he got to view the new vehicles she and Mullins worked on earning them a whistle and a 'fuck me' which might as well have been a hug from the guy - but some days it seemed like he went out of his way to find something to be annoyed with. 

"Alright kid," he finally regarded Mitchell. "Let's see what that thing can stand up to. Joker, we're going to break the prototype." 

"You got it boss," came a voice on his headset. "We're ready for him."

"Please tell me Irons mentioned -"

"I won't blow the damn thing up." 

"Thank you! Okay boys, I'll be in the window watching and taking some notes, so go ahead and get started once I get there. Please refrain from shooting at me." 

They fought for the better part of an hour. Mitchell actually gave Gideon a run for his money; with swift movements, good defense, and an idea how the battlefield worked. He still favored his right arm, which had more to do with his dominant hand than it did his mistrust for equipment. Joker and Gideon teamed up on him that they were able to catch him. He struggled and fought like hell to get out of their grasps, but as he was slammed to the ground for the second time, Joker put his boot over Mitchell's chest while Gideon stomped the prosthetic a few times. When that didn't work immediately, Mitchell twisted Joker's ankle off him and lunged for Gideon who was cursing again. 

Sam kept up with his diagnostics, everything was looking smooth so far. She swelled with pride after it thwarted Gideon as he tried to break the limb. It wasn't until she heard Gideon's next command that made her heart sink a little. 

"Joker, try and puncture the thing with your knife. Don't kill the kid."

"Copy."

He grabbed Mitchell's good arm, causing a reaction of the younger man to turn around and swing with his left, just as Joker wanted him to. He ducked out of the way and released his right hand to grab the left, and soon his knife was buried inside the prosthetic. If Mitchell felt it, he didn't say anything, rather he kept going with another right hook to back him off. He tore the knife out of his arm and continued forward. Sam was impressed, she was certain the arm wouldn't stand up to it and while the machine did read slightly lower in power, he was still pressing forward. 

He was about to attack Gideon when he stopped. Reacting without thinking he suddenly grabbed his left wrist as the voltage shot through his body. The fingers flexed and relaxed a few times before it was enough to knock him down. He cried out in pain as he sank to his knees. "Skitters, think you might want to-."

She checked the reading on her diagnostics. The regulator went wonky on him, now it was trying to overcompensate at the lost power it was shooting twice more than he was supposed to handle. Damn, and it was all going so well. She joined them in the training room in her usual skittering fashion. She hit the manual release, feeling the intense shock herself. Once the arm was off, Jack tried to catch his breath as he began to steady himself. 

"You alright kid," Joker helped him to his feet. Mitchell nodded before glancing at the offending limb with disappointment. He had really had hoped it would have worked and who knew how long that would set him back. 

"What the fuck just happened?" Demanded Gideon as Sam inspected the wiring. 

"Looks like your regulator went a little crazy on you," she explained to Jack. "Don't look so glum, that's what we were trying to do in the first place. Looks like it toggled loose, it's a quick fix but that's why we run these tests to see what can go wrong before the cost is deadly, like in battle. This is a good step forward."

"Easy for you to say," chuckled Gideon. "You didn't almost fry up with that thing on, is that going to be a problem in the future?"

"Can't really say," she shrugged. "It'll be noted in documentation but I think once the regulator is more secure it'll be fine."

"How long will it take to get secure?" Asked Mitchell finally. 

"So eager," she laughed. "I'll get some prototypes up tonight. Shouldn't take me too long, I have deadlines."

"Trust me mate," Gideon shook his head. "If you ever want her to get something done, just mention the deadline. It's all she talks about."

"Oh gee, I'm sorry Gideon, some of us do much more complex work than pull a trigger." He pointed a warning finger at her when she said it, even Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her. Joker, on the other hand, just laughed it off.

"Don't worry," he said quietly between the two of them. "They give each other hell all the time. It's like a hug between them, we'd be more worried if they didn't."

"You think you'd do so well at it," Gideon handed her a sidearm. "Try it for yourself."

"Funny."

"Then shut it." 

"Alright gentlemen, if you don't mind I'm going to go work on my deadlines," she emphasized sarcastically. "I'll see you tomorrow, we have a few more tests to run. For the rest of you; it's been real, it's been fun - but it hasn't been real fun." With that she took the offending limb to the lab to begin anew. The whole time she was a little bit excited to see Mitchell again tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one, just getting through all the techno babble so we can move on with the plot. I mean, is anyone really surprised that he gets a replacement arm? If you are, play the game because you probably haven't.

Just as she promised she was back at it. Mullins finally made it back in time to talk with her about the problems she faced that morning. Rather, Jack's problem, as she was more than certain it hurt him a hell of a lot more than it did her. Another report on the possible failures and now a risk to personal safety. She sighed and pressed the palm of her hand to her eyes, why couldn't she ever get an easy job? 

"Because you're stubborn," offered Mullins. "Now don't get too discouraged, sounds like a lot more went right than wrong. That's a hell of a lot less for us to do. The arm is functional, baring typical wounds that -in most cases - would stop even a natural limb. That's a good thing, now we need to see how we can get it in there a little more firmly."

"I've been talking to some of the harnessing engineers, think they might be able to come up with something before the day is out."

"Now you're thinking like a true executive," Mullins pat her on the shoulder. There was that word again, 'executive,' it sounded so nice. "Get a whole team together on all problems, don't iron out the problems alone. Remember, four heads think better than one." 

She did as he told her and waited for the email from the harness team. They had a few ideas, putting the regulator in a much more secure location so it would not be exposed so easily, rigging it under the supports so it would not only be completely invisible, but no one would be able to break it unless they took a blunt object and wailed on the arm with all their might. She just needed to thin out the piece itself so it would fit comfortably without conducting against the steel. 

"So was I right about the kid?"

"Hm? What?"

"What I said a while back, he was dreamy."

She laughed and shook her head, trust Mullins to bring up the most inappropriate topics. "He's not bad looking." 

"Not bad looking," he tutted. "Hell if I were a woman, I'd give him another glance over." 

"Then you can date him."

"Maybe I will!" 

Rolling her eyes, she focused back on the unit. Trying her damnedest not to think about the subject of their conversation. She had to admit, he certainly was handsome. With his bright blue eyes, the way his facial hair traced his jawline, or how he lit up at the use of his newest appendage. She almost sighed in defeat, maybe Mullins was right.

The next morning, Jack was promptly back in the lab at the same time he'd been the previous day. He greeted her with a small 'hello' and sat back on his seat. She explained some of the ideas coming along. "We're getting a new piece crafted, should be here by tomorrow. Until then I wanted to ask a few questions about yesterday. First and foremost, how are you feeling after yesterday?"

"Fine," he answered.

"Still a little bummed?" He nodded. "Don't be, we were looking for defects, and now we've got our best looking into the problem in all departments. Now, can you rate the pain you were in on a scale of one through ten? One being okay, ten being excruciating."

"About an eight." He thought about it for a while. True to her word, once it went, it knocked him on his ass for the day. When she asked how, he proceeded to inform her about how he could barely walk back to his room without feeling like he was going to collapse. His left arm constantly throbbed, his head felt like it was being split open at the slowest possible rate, and he was painfully aware of each beat of his heart. 

She noted down what he was saying, making a little note to the side that said 'Great googly moogly we almost killed him!' "Did you have any problem staying conscious for the day? Any trouble breathing? Did you have to see the medic?"

"No nothing that bad," he shook his head.

"Just felt like you were turning into a bowl of jello?"

He snorted, "yeah I think that's a safer way to say it." 

"Okay," she wrote down a little more. "What about weight? Too heavy? Too light?"

"No it was okay, I didn't favor a side anymore than normal." 

"So you typically favor your right side? Are you right handed?"

"Yeah." 

"Makes sense," she finished her notes and reexamined them. "These are really good then. The power input is good, we just need to store it somewhere they won't be able to access it so easily. It also held up really good against stress, except for the stab wound - which you would have trouble recovering if you still had your arm anyway. That's all I need for now. We can meet back here in a week to test out the arm in some real action. You'll be with Gideon for that, everything else is tweaking until it's ready for the field." 

He nodded and after a brief goodbye they parted ways.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, we all knows what happens in the game, and I really didn't want to bore anyone with a retelling, so it's going to jump ahead in time a lot, generally between missions.

Two months had passed, and Skitters was more than glad to hear that her project had settled so nicely. Jack had even been so kind as to thank her again for his newest limb.

'You don't understand how much I appreciate this,' he said breathlessly. Sam knew he appreciated the efforts to get him back to his former glory, but she had to admit she was more than a little impressed with the job her team accomplished. When she tried to put a little time in to practice with her silly little pistol (as regulated by Irons that everyone have something), she whistled loudly. Someone had finally beaten Ilona's score, and that someone was none other than Jack Mitchell - former Marine. Mullins had found her there, pathetically trying not to shoot civilians and mostly doing an okay job of it, it was hitting the rest of her targets that she was concerned with. 

"Thank god you're an engineer and not a soldier," he startled her. He held up both hands defensively. "Easy Skitters, it's just me." 

"I knew it was," she lowered the gun and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Sorry." 

"Eh," he shrugged it off. "If I was afraid of every woman who threatened to kill me, I would have left my wife years ago."

"Aw but she's such a peach," mocked Sam. She'd only ever met the woman once, and to say she was a scary woman would be an understatement. It felt like no matter what you did, she was constantly watching, judging, waiting for the moment to turn anything you said against you. Mullins laughed and observed the board to see if she'd scored anywhere near the soldiers - it was just as he thought- she didn't. He didn't fail to notice Jack Mitchell's name at the very top.

"Ilona can't be happy about that," he remarked.

"Hey, I'd call that a job damn well done," she smirked in return. Mullins agreed, it was actually the very same soldier he wanted to talk to her about.

"Come on," he lead her out and back to the labs. "Look at your most recent e-mail, I want you to see this." 

Hesitantly, she did as she was instructed by her boss, logging into her e-mail she saw she'd had three e-mails. One from Irons, one from Mullins, and another looks like some world news channel with some perky reporter. "Watch the video, you're going to love this."

'OPERATION LASSO'

She nearly jumped for joy when she saw Mitchell back in the field, it looked like it came so naturally for him, the way he went in guns blazing and "Whoa, shit!" Skitters exclaimed as the body of some KVA putz was tossed into a post from on top on a fast moving vehicle. "Did you see that? His mag-gloves didn't malfunction on the bus! It supported the weight, you were right!"

"Would've been real shitty if they had messed up. You would have turned Irons' protege into roadkill." 

"Yeah, but they didn't!"

It was one thing to hear that the arm was functioning, it was quite another to see your blood, sweat, and tears in action. To know that one man was able to pick up where he'd left off because of her team's labor. The next e-mail from Mullins was his bid to promote her to Executive. She squealed with delight, with her promotion she'd become one of the heads of her department. Now bouncing her leg with excitement, she read the final e-mail from Irons stating that he would agree to the bid of Samantha Walker's promotion. "NO FREAKING WAY! Is this a joke?!? Are you kidding me right now?"

"Nope," smirked Mullins. "Welcome to the Executive Circle, Skitters." She cried, she went home and danced around her apartment, she cried again with her mom on the phone, she laughed hysterically at random intervals. If she'd run into anyone in passing, they would have thought she had gone insane. 

Another two month had passed, and Skitters had to admit, she hated her job with a fiery passion. The constant babysitting she did with her subordinates made her want to jam her pen into her eye, with the hopes it would get her out of working. The twenty-four hours of frantic e-mails needing more information on the most basic of instructions. 'Do they all need me to hold their hands?' She'd asked Brad Mullins, who had laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed as a response. It didn't take very long for her to go from 'brilliant lead' to 'evil bitch who yells a lot.' 

She threw her briefcase down, never so happy to see her cat greeting her at the door. Zorro, aptly named for his black spot around the top half of his face and long black cape on his back, immediately lifted his self onto his hind leg to reach his long paws up for a scratch on his ears. The only man she ever had time for, Zorro was a good kitty, if a bit overly affectionate, but she loved him.He let her scoop him up into her arms as she sat on the couch with her friend and flipped through the stations on her television. What she'd seen on the news made her sick. The reactor cores on the power plants had been compromised, a catastrophic event with the death toll in the thousands and rising. Sam could only watch in horror, so much death in such a short amount of time, what were the others thinking? Did they see this as well? She wanted to call her parents, to know if they were alright, but her fear kept her frozen in one spot for such a long time. Her phone began ringing frantically as R&D tried to reach her. 

Something was wrong with Mitchell's arm again. She didn't really listen to the message, just picked up on some of the keywords. Injured in the blast, not fatally, but they wanted her to look at the limb and make sure everything was where it was supposed to go. She petted her friend on the head again, fed him a treat, and left immediately. 

When she got back to the lab, she saw a very tired looking Mitchell waiting for her. 'He's probably exhausted after everything,' she thought as she greeted him. It wasn't with the usual chipper tone, and Jack seemed to notice it right away as he nodded in recognition to her. "We're just going to take a look and make sure everything is okay on this end." He barely registered the words, but took his seat and set his arm on the rack for her to plug it in. It was less than a minute she was nodding. "Looks like one of the fingers are jammed, it looks mechanical but I can fix this. Hang on, it's going to give you a little shock." 

"Am I phantom limbing or does it do that when it gets damaged?"

"It's supposed to do it," she explained. "It's just like the need for pain sensors in the rest of your body, if your arm is on fire and you don't know about it, it might do some serious damage to the rest of you. Think of it as a 'hey pay attention to me' reaction." He nodded again. She gasped the finger and pulled, when that was no good, she instead opted to remove the finger entirely and reinstall it. "Probably could have went that route first." She laughed nervously, a little too nervously for Mitchell's comfort. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I was watching the news today. I saw the reactors all go, just kinda freaked me out. How about you, how are you holding up?"

"I've been better," he said thoughtfully as he considered the finger being screwed back onto his hand. "But I've been worse too."

"Some of the guys in R&D were saying it was like-."

"Seoul," he nodded. "Except we completed the mission in Seoul. Shit, the death count wasn't this high there."

"Are you sure you're okay," she asked again. 

"I'm alive," he shrugged. "And all limbs are intact. I guess I've got that going for me, for what it's worth."

"Come on," she urged. She signaled for him to try his pinky a few times. "It won't do any good to start feeling guilt. Especially once Irons starts pushing you harder - you're going to have to put your feelings aside."

"You're telling me how to be a soldier?"

"Nope, just bossing you around," she smirked. "Come on, we've probably earned a drink or two tonight."

"Or ten." 

"Or twelve."

"I like the way you think." 

They stayed a lot longer than he really meant to. Despite his 'drink until you can't feel feelings anymore, he hadn't actually planned on doing it. He actually felt a bit guilty, as he was supposed to meet Gideon and Joker and have a drink with them when he was finished with Sam. That night, he needed to get away from being military for a minute, he didn't want to talk about the mission, and that would be all Gideon would want to do. The drunker he got, the more he wouldn't shut up about it. It wasn't that he didn't like the guy, he was a hell of a captain, but he was all business. Besides, he didn't hate Sam's company either. It didn't take him long to understand where her nickname came from, which he found amusing and kinda cute. 'Jesus, when was the last time I've even spoken to a woman?'

"Okay, so you became a Marine because your dad did," nodded Sam as they were through their fourth drink. Mitchell couldn't help but laugh at how hard she was trying to keep up with him. She couldn't shoot whiskey for shit - as her attempt in doing so ended with it nearly shooting out of her nose - her beer tolerance was only so-so and she blamed him for getting her drunk because he was making her mix alcohol. 

"Right," he confirmed. "My dad was kinda the town hero and I had a bad case of hero worship for that guy."

"What about your mom?"

"She stayed back and took care of me and my brothers."

"Are they military?"

"God no," he shook his head with a snort. "One is so wrapped up in his life - which is fine - the other one is protesting everything."

"That must have made going home difficult," she said thoughtfully. Another round came to their table, she looked at them bottle as though she was about to eat a bug. 

"I didn't go straight home," he admitted. "I stayed in a hotel for about a week, no one knew I was back. Finally about the third day, my mom blew up my phone calling me every ten minutes. 'Call me immediately.' 'Where the hell are you?' 'We don't have to talk, just let me know you're still breathing!'"

"What happened when you finally did?"

"I called her, told her I was sorry. Dennis was talking a bunch of crap in the back, when I finally came home, my dad told him if he opened his mouth he'd kick his ass," they chuckle. Mitchell decided he liked Sam, the way their conversations were so animated when she talked. The way she tried to hide her slurs in her speech or the snort in her laugh. 

"That had to be so hard," she finally said sadly. "What about your other brother, what did he think?"

"Josh had zero sympathy for me. He wasn't being an asshole, but he kinda gave me that big brother pep-talk. 'Get off your ass, or you're going to end up shooting yourself - I know you.'"

"Middle child?"

"Baby."

"Awww," Sam clapped her hands giddily. "Little baby Jack, getting into all sorts of trouble. Did big brother have to bail you out of trouble a lot?"

"As a kid? All the time."

"Aww how cute!"

"Okay, so now it's my turn. What made you want to be an engineer?"

"I like building things. I used to work on cars with my dad way back when. When I got older I started programming so it was on to robotics - you're welcome - and it just turned into a career from there. Not to shabby."

"I've always heard engineering was-."

"A man's job. Trust me, no one made it easy for me, but I just kept pushing in school and they figured they weren't getting rid of me."

"I was going to say 'difficult' but that too."

She was about to ask more about him when her phone began ringing again. "Shit! It's my mom, I have to take this." He nodded and gestured for her to go on ahead before sitting back and taking a long, deep breath. He checked his own phone, his mother had been trying to reach him again. He sent her a quick text, 'I'm fine, I'll call you when I get a chance.' She sent him back a smiley face, immediately followed by an angry looking one. 'That's for not calling us sooner!' He lifted his beer and the more he thought about Seattle, the more he wanted to drink to forget. 

"Sorry, my mom saw all the news and she wanted to make sure everything was okay on our side," Sam returned to her seat, pocketing her phone. She frowned when she noticed how much further Jack was in his drink than she was and another round was on the table. "Okay are you trying to kill me?"

"No," he smirked. "You just walked away so I ordered another round."

"So who's driving us home?"

"I'll figure something out. C'mon we'll finish this last round and head back."

"Actually, I've got my car programmed. I just wanted to watch you sweat it out a little - but apparently that doesn't work on you."

"People shoot at me for a living, I saw a cataclysm resulting in the death of thousands. Not really worried about driving."

And in one simple sentence, all the humor in the room dried up. They sat awkwardly staring at their drinks, a thousand questions about what happened next crossed their minds. For Mitchell, it wasn't really that hard to figure out - he'd be sent all over the world looking for any KVA intel, countries all over the world would eat those Atlas contracts up. It kept him employed, it kept him relevant. For Sam, it could have meant anything. Her field of research as the KVA hunt goes into overdrive would keep her busy, and any sort of help needed anywhere else would tug her anywhere. It could be prosthetics one week and war-birds the next day followed by new and improved expos. It gave her a headache just thinking about it.

"Let's get back," Mitchell finally said after a long time. Sam glanced over to find his beer was completely emptied again. She nodded in agreement, not sure it would do them any good to send him back to Gideon with a hangover. She was getting ready to pay, but Mitchell insisted he did. "You fly, I'll buy."

"Is this a date?"

"Do you want it to be," maybe it was the alcohol, but Mitchell caught it a second too late. His once expressionless face was replaced by confusion, he wasn't even entirely sure he meant to say that.

"Not really," she scratched the back of her neck nervously. "I mean, don't get me wrong, if it wasn't for everything that happened today and we wouldn't be so busy maybe but - I don't know."

"No, I totally understand," he furrowed his brow further. "I really didn't even mean to say that. It just kinda blurted out. Sorry."

"Don't be," she waved her hands defensively. "Really, maybe another time or place and I really would have considered it but there's just too much for us to do." 

"Yeah," he agreed. Much to Sam's surprise, he didn't seem the least bit disappointed by her rejection but he seemed to agree wholeheartedly. She set her vehicle to take them to their places when she hit the manual stop. Mitchell looked around, he may have had quiet a bit too drink, but even he knew that wasn't where he lived. "What's up?"

"Okay, it's not a date, but just...." she began panicking. Her hands and fingers waved around enthusiastically. "Do you want to hook up tonight?"

"Wait, like... Go back to your place?" Mitchell was more confused, she rejected him but she wanted to sleep with him? She nodded sheepishly, he considered it. Just one night wouldn't kill them, would it? A one and done - which was typically a terrible idea - but since they would be so busy, what harm could it really have done? He'd be overseas and she'd be in the lab assisting in whatever it was she did. "Yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> Read, review (comment), and remember: I love you.


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